


Snapshots of Lingering Memories

by RoaringRaina



Series: Mankai Mental Health Company [3]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Introspection, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Spoilers for The Stranger, omi im so sorry ;;
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoaringRaina/pseuds/RoaringRaina
Summary: Omi’s entire life had been flipped upside down when he woke up in the hospital and Nachi was nowhere to be found. When the doctors told him he had escaped with bruises and a scar while Nachi had paid with his life for their stupidity.Survivor’s guilt, the psychologist had called it. Trauma-induced depression.Fancy words to describe the feelings of regret and the not-so-subtle wish to not exist that were rapidly making a home in his heart.Omi didn’t need fancy terminology for that. No amount of psychological lingo could change the deep longing to see Nachi one more time.
Relationships: (Omi and Taichi are not romantically involved; it’s about their friendship!), Fushimi Omi & Nanao Taichi, Fushimi Omi/Nachi
Series: Mankai Mental Health Company [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891930
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Snapshots of Lingering Memories

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mentions of depression, implied/referenced self-harm, canonical character death  
> spoilers for The Stranger event story
> 
> This was written as a foil to the Taichi fic, Hard to Break, in this series but it can be read as a standalone! Please take care of yourself if the topics in the tags could potentially trigger you!! I took a few creative liberties with the backstory between Nachi and Omi, but it won’t take too much away from the canon storyline! It’s minor details only!

It’s quiet.  
  
It’s very quiet, except for restless murmurs coming from the other side of their shared room.  
  
Fushimi Omi is currently staring at the ceiling, listening to Taichi mumble in his sleep. He watches the silver rays of the moon illuminate the room, giving it an eerie almost horror movie-esque feel.   
  
Omi can’t stop thinking about Taichi’s face when he confronted him about the bandages. Trying to open up a conversation about the secret Taichi has been trying so hard to keep hidden from everyone. To gently break it to the younger boy he hadn’t been as successful as he thought he was. Omi sighs deeply, his chest rising and falling as he feels unease claw its way up his body to nestle in his throat. What was he supposed to do _now_?   
  
Seeing the pain and exhaustion read so clearly off Taichi's face, the sadness lingering in his eyes, pains Omi. It cuts so deeply into a part of him better left to the past.  
  
Taichi’s struggles remind him of someone he does not -and cannot- forget.   
  
That’s a slippery slope of memories Omi is not sure he wants to walk when he’s already feeling this upset.   
  
Omi is drawn back to the present by Taichi’s sharp gasp of air. Omi turns to his side, trying his best to not make Taichi aware he’s actually awake. He focuses on his breathing, trying his best to relax his body. Omi recalls every lesson Izumi has drilled in his head about body posture and breathing techniques. A sigh of relief almost slips past his lips when he hears Taichi stir slightly but soon forces himself to lay absolutely still when there’s a thud on Taichi’s side of the room. He hears shuffling followed by the door opening and closing swiftly.  
  
Now Omi lets out the sigh he had been holding, the action wearing him out. He sits up and looks at the mess Taichi left behind in his bed. The way he kicked the covers off of him like he was in a hurry. Like he needed to get away from the one place where he is supposed to find rest. Like he had to kick the worries he takes with him to bed off of him.   
  
_Why are you trying to do everything by yourself like this?  
  
_ The thought tastes bitter, especially when he remembers how Banri and Juza had approached him before the barbeque. The fact they came to him together was odd, the fact there was no name-calling or bravado involved even more odd.   
  
“Omi-san,” Banri had started, scratching his neck in an awkward way Omi wasn’t used to from him. “We gotta talk to you about something.”  
  
“It’s about Taichi.” Juza had supplied, his expression pained and worried. His eyebrows were furrowed together tightly - Omi had never seen him look that worried before.  
  
Omi had known exactly what they wanted to discuss right there and there though. He had known but kept it a secret. He had known for so long, but had been unable to find proof.   
  
Self-harm is not the lightest accusation to throw around. Especially not when Taichi did such a good job of hiding every negative emotion he experienced. How he had managed to deflect every attempt at discussing the first aid kit having gone missing or the box of newly bought bandages being empty within a week.   
  
Taichi was a terrific actor after all.  
  
Banri had come with his own set of evidence, “Taichi is out of breath far more quickly than normal. He looks very pale too and exhausted too. He’s been wearing more long sleeved shirts, while complaining about how hot it is outside.”  
  
“He hasn’t been eating well either. Especially the sweets you’ve been making.” Juza frowned, “He’s been giving them all to me.”  
  
“What are you, some kinda damned vacuum cleaner?”  
  
“What was that?!”  
  
“Hah?!”  
  
“Boys, boys!”  
  
After pulling the two apart, Omi had thanked them for coming to him and together they had launched the idea of a joint barbecue. A time to force Taichi out in the open and to see what he would do. Omi had agreed instantly, he could make sure Taichi would eat plenty while also letting the rest of Mankai naturally see how different Taichi had been.  
  
Taichi had been hiding in his room more often, all under the pretense of hiding from the sun. With the excuse he was working on his summer homework.   
  
Omi knew better. It was always after Taichi went to “work on his homework” that he’d find all the trash cans in their room cleaned. A faint smell of antiseptics would hang in the room. But Taichi feigned ignorance to the best of his abilities and Omi did not want to call him out. Could not bring himself to do so.   
  
But now, he had a plan. The barbecue would be the stepping stone for him. He would have to plan out the food, figure out when to hold it, discuss with Izumi whether or not it would go through. He would have to face Sakyo and his -probably stingy- budget goals but it could work. Before Omi could continue with the planning, Banri had lingered behind while Juza left.   
  
“Omi-san, be honest with me as the Autumn Troupe leader. I think it’s more than him eating poorly or being tired. You’re rooming with him, so you gotta know. Do you think he’s been, uh, how do you say this shit properly?” Banri had radiated so much awkward energy, Omi felt a little bit sorry for him.   
  
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I think he is doing the things you’re imagining.”   
  
Omi had put a hand on Banri’s shoulder when the latter cursed under his breath. Banri muttered insults and complaints but Omi could catch the feeling hidden underneath very clearly.   
  
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”  
  
“Damn straight I am!!” Banri had looked so upset, so earnest and genuine in his emotion Omi realised once more the growth he had gone through as part of this troupe. “I just don’t know how to help him and it fucking sucks!”  
  
“Well, maybe your barbecue plan will be a good first step.”   
  
Banri had perked up slightly after that, hope shimmering in his eyes.  
  
Luckily for both of their worries, the plan had been very successful; Sakyo and Izumi had lingered at Omi’s grill station after spending only a few minutes with Taichi. Sakyo had mostly looked shocked while Izumi’s face had drained of colour, giving her the same ghostly sheen Taichi had been sporting.  
  
“When did he get like this?” Izumi had asked, “How did we not see this?”  
  
Sakyo had graciously and unsuspiciously wrapped an arm around their director, helping her stay on her feet. Were the topic more lighthearted, Omi would have wagered a playful jab at them. But this wasn't a lighthearted topic. This was the stone cold reality of someone carrying a burden so heavy, he'd destroy himself in multiple ways just to feel the illusion of having lightened it.   
  
Sakyo and Izumi had asked him to take care of Taichi. They had seen how pale he had gotten, how beads of sweat had made their home on his forehead probably due to the long sleeves he wore permanently.   
  
Omi had seen it too. Omi had seen the fire in Taichi's eyes go out, the shimmer and sparkle disappearing and being replaced by dread and fears.  
  
It worried Omi because he had seen it happen before. He had seen it in the face that used to stare back at him in the mirror. The face that didn't have a scar, a face that was formed in a permanent scowl only one person was able to dispel.  
  
Omi sighs, preparing himself for an unprompted walk down memory lane after all. The slippery slope filled with snapshots of lingering memories.  
  
He rolls onto his back, and looks up at his ceiling. Nachi's face is the first thing to pop up in his mind. Something about seeing Nachi’s face so clearly in his mind’s eye is comforting yet haunting. It makes him feel home but so alienated at the same time.  
  
The face Omi remembers is one with a smile so bright, so wide his eyes had to scrunch up to make room for it. His entire face would light up if he smiled, drawing everyone’s attention in. Omi had loved watching Nachi smile. Loved watching him radiate so much pure energy.   
  
Nachi had been the centre of Omi’s life. The rock that grounded him. The sun that warmed him up. The star that guided him. He had been everything to Omi.  
  
Omi sighs, his heart clenching with feelings he knows he should let go of. It’s been so long and still he finds himself thinking about him, wondering about things that could’ve been.  
  
Nachi had been everything to Omi. His best friend, his sun, his moon, his star.  
  
His first lover.  
  
Omi lifts his hand, spreading his fingers to see the spaces Nachi’s fingers had fit so perfectly. Their fingers always found each other, their pinkies hooked whenever no one was looking. Nachi made him feel safe and treasured, gave him a sense of home nobody else was able to give him.   
  
They had a rocky start, one where they butted heads a lot but ultimately found a dynamic that worked for them. Moments where their gang was not with them were filled with moments of peace and calm. Nachi would rest his head on Omi’s shoulder and together they would watch the sun set. They would muse about their futures, spouting dreams and wishes no one else knew about.  
  
Omi had never expected their time together to come to such a rough halt. He had expected them to be together forever, at least for longer than life had allowed them to be. They would lead the gang well into their twenties, maybe disbanding it at some point but not before they had had their fill of the adventure and adrenaline rushes.   
  
They would then move out of their stupid city, move somewhere they could be together in peace. Somewhere where they were free to do what they liked. Free to be who they wanted to be. Free to chase their dreams to their hearts’ content.   
  
Omi sits up, slings his legs over the edge of the bed and trails a hand over his scar. He remembers the day Nachi had first told him about his new dream very well. How he had watched the rest of their gang members laugh but how Nachi had only looked at him when he said it. How Nachi had looked for reassurance, for support and Omi hadn’t known how to give him either.   
  
Omi still regrets not having been able to say those words. To support and cheer Nachi on. That day, after the others had left, Nachi had asked him again. His voice was no louder than a whisper, a soft murmur filled with worry and concerns.  
  
“Will you come watch me?”   
  
Omi wished he had said anything, anything at all. Instead, he froze unsure what he thought. His own worries ran away with him, and instead of telling Nachi what he needed to hear, he said nothing.   
  
Nachi had sighed, a forced smile on his face. “Forget it.”  
  
Omi didn’t realise what had happened until the spaces between his fingers had felt empty again. Nachi had withdrawn his fingers, the action hurting Omi more than words or punches ever could. He felt rejected, his heart heavy in his chest.   
  
If only he had said something. If he had acted on the ache in his heart. On the worries that swirled around in his mind.   
  
Nachi had taken his mind off his worries by pressing their lips together, something Omi had struggled to get used to. There was something in Nachi’s kisses that made him lose all sense of reason, the softness with which he treated him, almost as if he were delicate. Him, the Crazy Wolf. _Delicate_.   
  
Omi never admitted it, but he loved being handled that sweetly.   
  
Another regret he carried when he thought about his time spent with Nachi. There were so many things he had wanted to tell him. So many things he wished he had said, things he wished he didn’t say. Affirmations and support, reassurances. The truth.   
  
But those chances had passed. Omi knows this. He doesn’t like it and it is still frustrating but he knows. Nothing will turn back time, nothing will make those regrets feel lighter. That was the only lesson time had taught him.  
  
“Nachi,” Omi whispers his name, his eyes trailing the rays of moonlight that illuminate his dorm room, “Nachi, what am I supposed to do?”  
  
Omi is met with the silence he’s become so acquainted with over the years and smiles bitterly to the darkness.  
  
“I stole your dream, I stand on a stage that belonged to you. I stand where you were supposed to stand. Is that okay?” Omi feels a heavy weight lingering on his shoulders, the memories of Nachi, his smile, the dimples in his cheeks, the way his fingers always found his, everything feels heavy.   
  
Omi turns his attention to Taichi’s empty bed. There were more pressing matters than his own regret and fears. Omi had something he needed to do, someone he needed to save. Someone he needed to reassure he was not alone, someone he should not leave to his own devices.   
  
Another chance to tell someone the things that mattered before it was too late. This time Omi refused to let the chance slip through the gaps between his fingers.  
  
Omi thinks back to the barbecue, how lost Taichi had seemed when people had formed groups. How he had missed the way Kazunari and Misumi tried to pull him into their conversation with Sakuya. How Banri and Tsumugi had loudly discussed the latest cafe that had gotten quite popular as a hangout for singles, all while keeping their eye on him.  
  
Not a single topic had made the redhead perk up. Nothing brought a dazzling smile to his face. Instead, the usual shine in his blue eyes faded even more. Omi likened them to fizzled out fireworks, the kind that makes you want to pick them up and thank them for their service. For brightening up the sky and for working so hard. 

It infuriated Omi because Taichi was nowhere near fizzled out. He was so bright, so enthusiastic. He livened up spaces and he brought so much optimism and liveliness to the Autumn Troupe. To the Mankai Company as a whole.   
  
The only one who did not see this, was Taichi himself.   
  
And how frustrating that is. How frustrating it is that Taichi does not see the light that shimmers within him. The light that is so bright Omi finds himself looking for him often when the dark of his own mind comes for him. A man-made ray of sunshine, the light at the end of a long day.   
  
It wasn’t just Omi who thought so. Yuki and Muku had spoken in hushed whispers how they worried for Taichi themselves. How he wasn’t himself lately. How they could see something was off about him. Yuki had frowned as Taichi poked his food listlessly, his eyes not focused on anything or anyone.   
  
“It is unsettling for the Puppy to go quiet like this,” he had mumbled, Muku giving him a soft smile and a comforting rub over his back.   
  
It was frustrating to see Taichi suffer but try so hard not to break. To keep his sadness hidden when it seemed to consume him whole. To pour all his energy into appearing to be fine. That nothing was wrong and he was doing great. It’s like Taichi was enveloped by a dark blanket, locking the light outside. The sun is unable to breach through the veil but Omi can still see Taichi’s innerlight seeping out from between the cracks. It’s soft and not nearly as bright and overpowering as it once were, but it’s not lost.  
  
Omi wonders if he’s the right person to remind Taichi of these things. To tell him that after the darkest nights, the sun will rise once again. That even in the darkest nights there are stars to guide your steps. That sometimes the star to guide you is closer than you think.   
  
That sometimes _you_ are the one you’re looking for.  
  
Omi wants to reassure him. Tell him he’s loved and that he’s an irreplaceable member of the Mankai Company. That it’s okay to admit that he can’t see the light in the dark. That things will work out if he allows others to help him make it through the night.  
  
Omi knows what it’s like to be convinced the night will never end. He remembers all too vividly what it feels like when you’re on the other side of the exchange. When others are trying so hard to make you remember you’re loved and cared for, but the darkness of the night was too deafening.  
  
Omi’s entire life had been flipped upside down when he woke up in the hospital and Nachi was nowhere to be found. When the doctors told him he had escaped with bruises and a scar while Nachi had paid with his life for their stupidity.   
  
Survivor’s guilt, the psychologist had called it. Trauma-induced depression.   
  
Fancy words to describe the feelings of regret and the not-so-subtle wish to not exist that were rapidly making a home in his heart.   
  
Omi didn’t need fancy terminology for that. No amount of psychological lingo could change the deep longing to see Nachi one more time. To tell Nachi he would come watch his first show. That Nachi’s smile was his favourite thing in the world. That Nachi looked cool when he drove his bike but that the bright smile radiating happiness was Omi’s favourite look on him.  
  
His father and brothers had been so worried when Omi stopped joining them for dinner. When he laid in bed all day, staring at the ceiling, stuck in his mental gallery of snapshots of his life with Nachi. Imagining what their future could have looked like.   
  
Omi closed his heart off, not allowing anyone a single glance inside. He ignored his brothers who showed him pictures they’d drawn at school. He ignored his father who came to sit by his side every night after work. He ignored the world that dared to continue despite Nachi not being part of it anymore.  
  
This went on for days until the thought and wish for revenge consumed him. Omi gave in to the wish for revenge, a feeling and desire to get him out of bed. Something that gave him a purpose, no matter how destructive it may have seemed.   
  
Once his revenge was accomplished and his gang abandoned, the same empty feeling overtook him. He abandoned everything, his old name, his old friends, and the memories he treasured were buried somewhere deep inside his heart. Like a photo album of embarrassing childhood pictures, left in the bottom drawing to collect dust, but never to be flipped through again.  
  
Omi picked himself up again, going through the motions of everyday life, securely keeping a lid on the regret and sadness lingering in his heart. He started taking more pictures, he collected his snapshots of memories, allowing himself to bask in the satisfaction of getting that perfect shot.  
  
He found a second home at the Mankai Company, his days were hectic and chaotic but gave his life meaning once more. Omi felt genuine happiness, the feeling having grown so foreign, he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience it again. As long as he kept his hands on that lid, he wouldn’t ruin this second shot at finding a place he belonged.  
  
It worked fine, until the photo album filled with snapshots of lingering regret demanded to be flipped through. Until the memories demanded to be remembered. Until his first lead role opened the lid and left Omi to pick up the pieces.  
  
It had been hard. It had been hell, Omi felt powerless. Everything he had tried so hard to repress, every feeling, every emotion and every thought came back to haunt him. He felt like he would be taken apart by it, feeling weak and like a coward for having run for so long in the first place.   
  
But there was his ray of sunshine, a little ball of goodwill and innocent optimism, determined to pull them both through the dark night with yellow stickers to guide their way. Big smiles and even bigger plans to figure out how to get Omi out of his slump.  
  
Omi could never thank Taichi enough for his unwavering support.  
  
Omi pushes himself off his bed, pulling on a sweater and slippers. Now it was his time to support Taichi through his neverending night, to remind him there are yellow stickered days waiting for him to take a picture of.   
  
He enters the cold of the night, not even feeling the wind as he takes big strides to the main building, knowing he will find Taichi in the living room or maybe the kitchen. He had looked with too much interest at the sizzling oil and Omi’s heart drops to his stomach, horror images filling his mind. The bloodstained tissues in their dorm room make him uneasy, remembering just what Taichi is capable of in his sadness.  
  
Omi walks faster, his heart rate picking up as he gets closer to the door. He stops at his destination, his hand shaking as he hovers over the handle. He shakes his head, the image of Taichi alone and maybe even crying strengthening his resolve. He was not going to regret not being there for someone precious to him again.  
  
Omi takes a deep breath and opens the door carefully. He leaves his regret outside, his worries and doubts won’t hold him down. He prepares himself for possibly the hardest conversation he’s had in awhile, but knows it’ll be necessary.   
  
"There you are."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Have a wonderful morning, day, evening and/or night! Take care and be safe!


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